Take My Fate In Your Hands
by Flyawaysnogbox
Summary: "She has become his everything, his family. The stars in the sky on those nights where he couldn't see any in sight." Warning: Don't take the M rating lightly. But, also, fluff. AU, the Doctor is human in this story. Whouffle. Previously a one shot titled, "We Need No Ending, This Means Something."


Author's note: This was previously a one-shot titled "We Need No Ending, This Means Something", everyone who favorited and followed it as that - thank you. I've decided to continue on with this story and actually read through and edit it. Including this first chapter, because when I wrote it, I may or may not have been on Skype with a friend at the exact same time and I never realized how many errors there were before now.

At this point, I don't know if each chapter is going to be consecutive as far as time lines go, it may become a series of one-shots. We'll see.

Warnings: Rated M. definitely sex, a little language.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything associated to Doctor Who.

Still, all errors and mistakes are my own. Reviews and constructive criticism are my motivation. I appreciate at anyone who reads my stories, favorites, follows, reviews, SO much. You all are fantastic.

* * *

They'd met in a bar.

It wasn't seedy or gross and it was close to her flat. The day had been long and hectic. Clara Oswald wanted no bullshit this evening. Just a few drinks to calm her nerves, then a good night's sleep. And thank goodness it was a Friday night.

Clara was a teacher, she didn't teach younger kids, teenagers, actually, but for some reason, they felt like being rowdy today. They were normally well behaved and she actually loved kids. She babysat to make money when she was a teen and became a nanny for a bit after university but life had moved on, like it always should.

Speaking of which, she'd just ended a relationship with an office assistant at the school she worked at. He hadn't particularly been her type but he was sweet and cared for her and though she was never one to settle, companionship seemed nice when you were unfamiliar with the environment you'd just begun a job at. They had gone on a few dates and he was a perfect gentlemen, he would check on her between her classes. It was all so routine and boring, she didn't want to be a bitch and she wasn't. Hurting him was really the last thing she wanted to do. He understood and accepted it all the same, though. But, still, after the break up, he was prone to show up in her classroom and ask her how she was doing.

Always a polite answer on her end, Just fine, thanks, how about yourself? He would be just as polite but a bit solemn. Apparently Clara had been one of the most different girls he'd ever met. Beautiful and exciting. She rode a motorbike, that in itself had been kind of impressive to him. She wasn't anything typical. And typical was all he was.

Clara sat at the bar, nursing her vodka cranberry when a man sat next to her. They didn't acknowledge each other, there was just an empty seat and he took it.

The bartender approached when he saw the man and gave him a nod and a smile, "Ah, Doctor, good to see you. Been a while. Can I get you the usual tonight?"

The man, the Doctor, apparently, smiled politely, "Yes sir, that would be absolutely wonderful."

Clara's face twisted in a mix of confusion and amusement. They were in a bar for god's sake, and this man was being so polite to the bartender. They seemed to know each other but maybe the Doctor was just a regular here. Clara downed her drink and turned the strange man beside her.

"Hello," she said, smiling at the man, "Is your name actually Doctor? Or are you an actual proper doctor?"

He smiled at her, a goofy grin, but he was handsome. Tall, very slender. Interesting sense of style, he was wearing a bow tie, but very lovely brown hair that had a nice flow to it and gorgeous green eyes that Clara wouldn't mind looking into for awhile.

"Hello," he answered back, delighted to have found a companion to speak to, "An actual proper doctor. Though, I am just called Doctor by everyone who knows me."

"And why is that?" Clara asked, curious.

"Well, my real name is John. John Smith. How many John Smith's do you think are in the world? Probably a billion billion. Maybe more."

Clara chuckled, "I don't think there are a billion billion people in the world, John. I think it's something closer seven billion."

"You never know, there's so much out there we don't know about. What if there were a billion planets inhabited with billions and billions of life forms?"

Clara looked at him, wide eyed, he hadn't even taken a sip of his drink yet, which seemed to be whiskey. But was he for real right now? Was he talking about aliens?

"You're actually serious?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Could be" he gave her a crooked smile. "What is your name?"

"Clara," she answered simply.

"Clara." he echoed, "Just Clara?"

She quirked an eyebrow, "Clara Oswald, actually, pleased to meet you."

"Clara Oswald," he said quietly to himself before turning back to her, "That's a nice name. You should keep it."

"It's whom I've been for 25 years, I don't think my name will be changing anytime soon. For the record, though there may be a billion billion John Smith's inhabiting the earth and galaxies, it is a nice name. Simple, but you seem to be anything but simple and that's a nice change of pace."

"Why be simple? What's the point in being typical and practical with the same boring, daily routines when we only have one life and there's so much to do and see and explore?"

Clara burst out laughing and John looked stunned and confused as if he'd said something wrong, she waved a hand a way to let him know it was fine and once she caught her breath, she explained.

"I just broke up with a sorry bloke who was all about practicality and routine, it gets old."

The Doctor nodded his understanding, "I understand. Was it a serious relationship?"

She shook her head, not sure why she was opening up to this man so quickly and so easily, "Not really. Nice guy, first person I met at my new job. Showed me the ropes, helped me out a bit. We only went on a few dates. He was more interested than I was but I figured I could give it a shot. I don't date much, to be honest."

"Well, Clara Oswald, would you like to get out of here?" Clara nearly choked on the second drink she'd started on and rose her eyebrow in disbelief.

"I'm sorry?" she said defensively.

His face became flushed, "No, no, no" he said quickly, "Not like that! We've only just met for goodness sake. What kind of man do you think I am?"

She shrugged, "Dunno, never met you before tonight. What'd you have in mind?"

He did that boyish grin again when she showed a bit of interest, "I wanted to show you my favorite place. Where I go to think. An observatory of sorts, I suppose."

"Let's get on with it then," he paid the tab for both of them and straightened his bow tie as if he had just done something fabulous.

Clara had to admit she was already a bit smitten with this man. Rain was pouring down outside and the darkness from the sky almost enveloped everything. There weren't many street lamps. Clara had walked to the bar, not expecting the rain, for some reason. It always rained, though. John led her to his car. A blue, almost rectangular shaped car. She wanted to laugh but when he saw that she was trying to hold in her laughter, he scowled. He was obviously very fond of the vehicle.

They drove to a sort of dome shaped building, futuristic looking, lots of telescopes. He grabbed her hand, her first instinct would have been to pull away but it felt comfortable, his hand was warm and soft against hers and it fit like it belonged there.

"This is my escape," he said softly, "Where I think, contemplate everything in my life. The world is so vast. It goes forever, Clara. Some nights you can look to the sky and see nothing, nothing but clouds or just black. Other nights, you know there is just so much more out there beyond what we can see."

She had nothing to say, she didn't want to, he spoke so beautifully. Listening to him talk in this moment was a bit of an eye opener. Her hand was still in his, she hasn't realized it until he pulled her closer to him.

"Go on," he ushered, pointing at a telescope, "look at what's there." Clara gasped. She'd never bothered to really spend a lot of time contemplating the things of the Earth and whatever worlds that may live beyond it, she was perfectly happy to curl up with a book and a cup of tea but this was wondrous. Beautiful. So many stars, filling the sky, like little flames. It was one of the most stunning sights she'd seen.

That was, until she turned to look at the man she'd only just met tonight, he had this look on his face. One of fulfillment. His green eyes were soft and his smile was kind and content.

"I've never brought anyone else here before."

"No?" she questioned hesitantly, because it definitely seemed like one of those things a secretly suave guy would do just to get a woman in his pants.

"Never. Cross my heart."

* * *

Everything changed after that night.

John had a demanding schedule being a doctor, being on call all the time. Clara had evening and weekends off but spent a lot of time reading over her students work and grading papers. John and Clara had become fast friends and tried to see each other pretty often but time didn't always allow for it to happen.

Neither had yet admitted to the other but their feelings were extending far past friendship. Sometimes they would go to John's special place and look through the telescopes. They would sit on the floor, close together, hands touching- but just barely - and they would talk about everything.

His childhood wasn't necessarily a happy one. He had brothers and sisters and was the youngest one of them all. His parents has died in a car crash one night when he was very young and he didn't understand it. They had been left with a nanny and he don't know why his mummy and dad weren't coming to get them and tuck them all in bed that night, kiss their foreheads and tell each of them how much they love. How they're all the light of their lives. They were all separated immediately after that. They didn't have any other family and and his brothers and sisters were all put into the system. He was so young, a family wanted a little boy and so he had been adopted and they had been wonderful. They were who he considered his parents now because he had very little memories of his biological parents. He wasn't treated as a stepson or a stray, he was treated as their very own. They supported him through everything, all through school, through parties for all his graduations, helped pay his school loans and were there for him whenever he needed. They had so much pride for him, having gone to medical school and becoming a doctor. He had the urge to save lives. Be a surgeon. Fix people that never knew trauma could come to them in any second, in any shape or form. But he carried guilt with him. He was 30 and he had never tried to find his brothers or sisters. He believes that they had stayed in the system until they had come of age. He doesn't know if they succeeded in school. If they had compassion and a need to help, like he did. If any of them went to university. He didn't want to find them and uproot their lives. Not this many years later. He could carry the guilt.

Clara could tell that he didn't open up to people very often, that he never mentioned spending time with friends. He go see his folks on for Sunday dinner but as far as people in is life they were all he mentioned. Clara was quickly becoming someone he felt he really needed in his life. He felt drawn to her, that he could share everything with her. There was a connection. Like magnets, or a moth to a flame. He didn't think his feelings for her were dangerous in anyway. He opened up so much and that terrified him in a way, really. There's been so much loss in his life. He'd had two best friends he had mentioned on one occasion, Amy and Rory, they had died on vacation in New York. It was supposed to be a happy time for the two of them and just like that, they were gone, he's never see them again. Death wasn't almost the main source of loss, obviously he had lost his biological parents to a car crash, and brothers and sisters to the foster system. He was a bit of a loner with a need to see the world, but he couldn't be alone any longer.

"You don't have to be lonely," Clara had told him one of those nights, her hand gripping his tightly, a sad smile gracing her face. Her eyes were watery and she wanted to tell him that he was wonderful. That he was saving lives and that, really, he wasn't alone. With as much time as they spent together, he had her now. She was part of his life and she didn't want to change that anytime soon.

"I promise I'll stick around, John."

He shook his head, though, "Don't make promises you can't keep, please. Especially one like that."

"I'm sorry," Clara whispered.

"No, no, Clara, never be sorry," he felt anguished that he told her she wouldn't be able to keep that promise, "You've just become someone in my life I want you in my life as a constant."

"Anything can happen." she lied her shoulder against his and began to tell him about her life.

She loved her childhood, her parents, Ellie and Dave, had been her everything. Her mom taught her how to bake souffles when she was little and though she knew the recipe by heart, Clara had never made one successfully on her own. And that broke her heart a little. She was around sixteen when her mother had died of cancer and baking souffles had been a thing they would do together every week or so. Her mother's always turned out perfect and all Clara wanted was to perfect one. It was silly, she knew, but sometimes she felt that maybe her mom was watching down on her and if she ever baked that perfect souffle, her mom would know it was just for her. Clara was an only child, she liked it that way, though. She didn't always like sharing and sometimes she could be a bit selfish but everyone had those moments. After her mom died, her dad died a little himself, metaphorically speaking. There were days he wouldn't leave bed. Days that Clara would cook and had to make sure he would eat and shower. After a few months, he got back to himself, still missing his wife but understanding that his daughter really needed him.

Then John knew the part about her going to university, getting a degree in English literature and landing a job as a teacher, dating a sweet and boring man and after a particularly rough day she needed a drink and John sort of dropped into her life. Into the chair next to her, anyway. It felt a bit like fate, though. It's not every night you meet a gentlemen at a bar who isn't trying to sleep with you and then erase you from his life the minute he's had his way with you.

"You're a special man, John. Like no one I've ever met. How is that?"

He looked at her strangely, tilting his head, "How do you mean?"

"I mean, you're here. You're a successful surgeon, and maybe you like you job. Saving people can be rewarding, but it's full of loss, too. You've been running from loss all your life. You have your mum and dad, but you want to go. You go look at the stars nearly every night. Imagining you can just land on any one of them if you wanted to. Why don't you just by a plane ticket to nowhere, somewhere, anywhere, and just explore? Do you even need a real destination? What's keeping you here?"

"Nothing was, that night we met, I was going to have a few drinks then buy a ticket to somewhere and see what's out there. But then you were quite literally beside me, talking to me, and in that moment, I knew I wanted you stay beside me. I guess you could say you're keeping me here, eh?"

They lied back on the floor, their hands grasped together and they felt content. Even after rehashing bad memories of their past, this had felt right.

"I don't want to keep you from living your life."

He turned toward her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If anything you're helping me live my life. I can feel a flame in my heart when I'm with you. Like you've brought me back to life in a way, I'm not sad anymore. I'm not alone."

"No, you're not," she whispered before she properly kissed him for the first time. Their lips both soft against the others, slow, lazy but full of meaning that neither could quite put their finger on at the moment. Their tongues tangled as the kiss got deeper, he was half laying atop her, when they ran out of breath and pulled apart she ran her her index finger across his face, staring into those eyes she could get lost in. She kissed his cheek and moved away. Suggested that they call it a night. Things were already moving a bit fast for the both of them, emotionally. Something neither of them usually let happen with anyone but they knew it was time to slow it down with one another.

* * *

The feelings were starting to become too intense.

Slowing things down never happened. Spending time searching stars, meeting for dinner and drinks - the simplicity of that part of their friendship faded quickly. Neither could call it a friendship anymore but they hadn't defined what they were either. They'd shared kisses, and spent time enjoying the closeness of the other but they weren't dating. Clara wasn't sure what it was. John just knew, at this point, she had been his savior of sorts.

John would spend time at her flat, they would relax, cuddled on the sofa nestled together. Sometimes watching television, sometimes talking. She would cook dinner for them, or they would order take away.

Sometimes he would attempt to cook but he wasn't exactly skilled in the culinary arts. It was endearing, it made her laugh. Her laugh always brought a grin to his face. God, he loved that sound. It was like a song that he wouldn't mind hearing on repeat, he knew he wouldn't grow tired of it. After he got past the joy he felt in heart, hearing her laugh, he would glare at her. She didn't find it the least bit intimidating, she would just bite her lip to hold back another bout of laughter.

"I'm trying to cook a fantastic dinner for you and you're distracting me. This is your fault, you made me burn it!" He sounded like a child, pointing a finger, looking for someone to blame something on that was actually entirely his fault.

She really couldn't stop herself from giggling.

"Oi! I'm serious here! Maybe I wanted to try and be romantic."

"John," she said, amusement lacing her voice, "You brought over fish fingers and custard. To eat together, as an entree. And jammie dodgers for dessert. Not really seeing the romance there, to be honest."

"Well, I lit one of your candles. It smells all vanilla-y and such. I think it smells romantic, don't you?"

She shook her head in disbelief at how ridiculous this man could truly be when he was letting his true self show. He only seemed to let himself shine around her.

"Stop your cooking before you burn my kitchen, we'll order take away later, yeah?" she inquired before she gave him a look he was starting to become familiar with, "Come here."

He approached her quickly, joining her on the sofa, he pressed a kissed to her lips and then pulled away, "You really don't think that candle smells romantic?"

She rolled her eyes at him, her voice barely above whisper, "Shut up and let me kiss you."

That had been their limit, really. Make-out sessions. He was in his thirties and she was in her mid-twenties and neither were virgins by any means but they knew going further would mean a lot in their relationship that had yet to be properly established. They were both there, at this point, though. He had a way of making her bad days good in an instant. Being in his arms brought fast comfort to her and sometimes she never wanted to leave those arms of his. To him, after a long day at work, after seeing deaths and not being able to save patients, he knew he's be able to see her. Warm and alive. He would hold her and kiss her forehead, whisper to her that he never wanted her to fade from him, she would tell him that she wouldn't.

I'm right here, John.

There were moments where he would lie his head against her chest, needing to hear and feel her heartbeat. Work made him feel so numb and sad sometimes, and knowing Clara was alive always sort of brought him back to alive. He didn't want to imagine a life without her.

Their lips joined, like they had many times before, they knew this part, they knew each other in this manner.

He knew she liked it when he would bite her bottom lip, it always elicited a gasp from her, a sharp breath and the air from their lungs would mingle together when he would away. To kiss her nose- he loved her nose - then her cheek, across her jaw and down to her neck, nibbling and then pressing gentle kisses as if to soothe where he would bite, though he was never rough with her.

Those actions weren't different this time around, they just both knew that this time, it wasn't going to stop at that. There was sort of an unspoken understanding between them. They talked so much with each other about everything but sometimes, all they needed was silence. Sometimes their eyes conveyed the words they couldn't quite speak to each other.

Their clothes were shed fast, they were in a hurry, they wanted to take their time but they were craving each other madly. They had what felt like all the time in world to take it slow, later. Besides, "slow" hadn't been a thing that really worked out for them since that night they first met in the bar.

Their tongues would battle each other in a bruising kiss, hands wandering everywhere. Running through hair, breasts, his back - she was leaving marks that would probably be painful later. Right now it was a perfect feeling - his fingers were teasing her center. She was wet and he couldn't wait to be inside her, but he wanted to tease her a little first. Sure, maybe it was a little cruel but her gasps and growls and moans were fabulous. He would dip a finger inside her, then two, thrusting while rubbing her clit with his thumb. Clara was already losing it and decided it wasn't fair. She chose to take things into her own hands, literally.

Clara reached between their bodies and grabbed his hardened member, he let out a bit of a yelp, at the sudden contact. But two could play this game. She gave him a teasing grin, an arched eyebrow and stroked him, giving his member a squeeze. He kissed her deeply, removing her hand, having enough of the teasing. He guided himself into her, moving slowly so she could adjust to him as he filled her. He grunted at the feel of her tight around him, but he didn't move. He looked her straight in the eyes and caressed her cheek, first.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, so comforting and caring. It was sweet.

"Of course," she breathed out, "But John?"

"Yes?" his voice still gentle.

"I really need you to move," she said a bit desperately, thrusting her hips up against his to demonstrate what she really needed from him right now. She didn't want gentle or sweet. She just wanted him to move. Now.

He listened her to, deciding in that moment that she was definitely the boss.

He pulled out for a moment, thrusting back into her somewhat roughly and her cries of pleasure were all he had to hear to fuel him to keep giving her what she wanted. In this moment, it was all about her and what she wanted and he had absolutely no problem giving it to her. It gave him just as much pleasure. They met thrust for thrust, her nails running down his back, gripping him every so often when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. She kissed him, moaning into his mouth and moved down to kiss his neck, his shoulder, biting him a bit, leaving a mark on his skin. They were in a flat, though, she had neighbors and it was a way for her to keep quiet, especially during such a private, intimate moment. She tightened around him, just so, and he moved his hand down between them, thumbing at her clit, causing her to tumble over the edge and reach climax. She wasn't able to keep quiet this time, he had such an effect on her. He started to thrust erractically, not having any rhythm and not caring, it was only a few seconds before he followed her climax, collapsing on top of her.

John stayed inside her, but flipped them over so she was on top of him, lying against him, her head on his shoulder. The sudden movement had caused them both to moan but they were exhausted now. But comfortable, satisfied.

Everything with Clara was right. He was content to just lie her with her in silence but he needed to know, he had to ask.

"What is this? You and I, what are we?" The label didn't necessary mean a whole lot to him, not really. He knew they were something serious. It's been building for months and it literally feels as though they're a part of each other, but he wanted to hear her say it, what they were, what they meant.

"We're just.. I don't know, John," he frowned and she quickly shook her head, kissing him gently, "We're just us. We're me and you. Something that means everything."

That's all he wanted to hear. She has become his everything, his family. The stars in the sky on those nights where he couldn't possibly see any in sight.

"Just us," he whispered, "I like that."


End file.
